


I Am Iron Man

by AQuietThinker



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Adopted Peter Parker, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, BAMF Pepper Potts, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), F/M, Family Bonding, Five Stages of Recovery, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Medical Comma, Medical Inaccuracies, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Please have patience, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Peter Parker, Self-Blame, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Lives, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, What Have I Done, everyone is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AQuietThinker/pseuds/AQuietThinker
Summary: The battle is over, earth has recovered what it lost five years ago, and Tony Stark lays on the battlefield, about to die. But fate will not allow him. When Tony Stark survives Endgame, there is still a high cost to pay and a long, terrifying road of recovery. He is not alone in the journey, Pepper and Morgan, ad the newest family member, Peter, are there for him. The only thing that is left is for him to wake up.---Or. Tony Stark Lives, heavy Angst.
Relationships: Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Comments: 16
Kudos: 78





	1. Into Unconciousness

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Permanence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996116) by [theexhaustedalchemist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theexhaustedalchemist/pseuds/theexhaustedalchemist). 



> Hello everybody! This is actually going to be a very loong fic!
> 
> My lovely editor is actually writing this one for me (and helping me with the long research of amputations and stages of recovery) but she does not have an account yet. When she does I'll add her as a co-writer and delete this.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTES  
> \- This fic deals with heavy topics, like alcohol abuse, self-hatred, suicidal thoughts, even with the eventual recovery. I will try to add warnings at the beginning of chapters, but read at your own risk. Please stay safe and remember that even if you may have moved on from something like this, it may be triggering.  
> \- I try to be canon compliant but there are a few things in this fic that change.  
> \- The whole Mysterio accident does happen, but Pepper, being the Queen she is, is able to pause Quentin's video before Peter's identity is revealed. I was originally planning on not doing that, but this is a Tony-Centric fic. Maybe I'll do a one shot later.  
> \- On that note, May is dead and, by the time everything happens after this intro, Peter has moved on (kinda)
> 
> Thank you so much and enjoy!

For once in the battle, he feels like the center of attention. The ash from their enemies drifts up into the horizon, but the sky is still thundering with falling debris and grey clouds. A silence falls upon the remains of the structure, even the roaring fires from explosions and battle screams have ceased.

He feels various pairs of eyes stuck on him, his crumpled figure, the metal of whatever he’s resting upon piercing against his damaged armor. He can fix that later. There’s pain flooding every vein, every fibre of his being, and he tries to keep the blood and vomit in his stomach. The glove dully shines with tenuous lines, and his skin seems to have combined with it during the snap.

He can see the burnt flesh, smelled it sooner, now combined with melted metal, in the corner of his eye, but does not have the strength to look down on it. 

Peter approaches first.

He wants to smile, to cradle the teenager in his arms with care to recover the time lost in five years. He wants to tell him about Morgan, take out that small polaroid picture in his armor and say how sorry he was for letting this happen. 

His ears can’t make out the words the brunette is babbling, just his teary eyes and quivering smile. Then Pepper’s blue chest plate shines behind the kid and he wills himself to look up.

She’s bright as the moon, in all the glory of a warrior with that armor he had designed, and he can help but think of their lovely cabin in the woods. He wonders where Morgan is, what she is doing. Is she aware that both her parents were fighting for her future? Is she concerned, or scared?

Pepper’s crying, and for a brief moment he wonders if he made a sarcastic or selfish comment. She cradles his face with an un-gloved finger, and he cant help but lean into the touch, the skin being the only warm thing apart from the fivers scattered around.

His right hand is shaky and nearly gives up on moving when he tries to hold her hand, and she takes it with care. His lips move to pronounce her name, but he can't hear his voice, yet knows she heard when her eyes shine.

Strange emerges behind her, battered and older than before, and his eyes hold an emotion he can’t decipher. If someone had told the genius that Stephen Strange was aware of his fate a few months ago, he would have blasted the magician. But at the moment their eyes me, he couldn't help but be thankful that the future was only theirs to know.

He is exhausted.

Years of pain and turbulence seem to weigh down on him, more weight than his suit of armor could ever carry. He wants to close his eyes and drift off for eternity.

His lips twitch and smile down on his son and wife, on the shimmering of a red and blue shield behind them. Goodbye.

The last thing Tony Stark notices is the swinging of a blade, but it doesn't strike his chest as pictured. He can feel it zipping past his ear, crashing to his shoulder, but darkness consumes his mind before he can scream.

\--------------------

Pepper was originally the only person who knew of his fear of hospitals, but after a few years of battles and avenging he suspects the whole teams knows.

His stomach twists as the smell of latex and disinfectants flood his senses and his eyes blink rapidly. His body is propped up, face brightened by the swimming lights of the ceiling, neck brace holding it high. Strange, dressed in an odd combination of cape and surgical scrubs, is rushing by his side, and a female doctor he does not know.

He moans out in pain, but he starts to panic when his left arm doesn't respond.

_Hold on Stark, we’re going into surgery_

_Mr. Stark!_

_Tony, you have to live_

_Morgan should be here_

_He’s seizing!_

Voices, hushed and loud, are everywhere and he wants to tune the volume down. He calls out for Friday, and when she doesn't respond his head starts picturing ways to scol the AI for not maintaining herself responsive.

When the wheels of the cot stop moving a bright, icy light shines and makes him wince. Someone presses a mask against his mouth and he fails to summon his left arm to take it off, off off off off.

Everything is now silly, floating around like his ship with Nebula.

Everything is black once more.

\-----------------------

“You didn’t waste it.”

He is floating, dressed in the Black Sabbath t-shirt and some pants, barefoot. The figure of the Afghan man approaches him, also clean, pure and without the round glasses.

“Yinsen?” his lips don’t move, as if the voice comes from his head instead of his vocal cords.

“Rest, Stark. Your legacy is grand. It's time to go.”

Abruptly, the memory of the man is no longer peaceful, and he frowns.

“I don’t want to go.”

“Stark, it is time-” begun the man.

“No.” A tremor shoots down his left arm, and his consciousness of having his arm appears. “I have a family- I’m not done. Morgan.. Peter, my wife-”

“It's over now, Stark. You deserve rest.”

No, this is wrong. He wants to live, he has a purpose now. It couldn't possibly be over.

“I can’t, I- I don’t want to go…”

He tries to place his hand on Yinsen shoulder, but he crumbles to ash particles. The hand flinches back in terror, and he wants to close his eyes in order to wake up from this slumber turned to nightmare.

“Anthony?”

Tears run down his face as the figure of his mother comes closer, and a hand, perfectly manicured, cradles his cheek.

“Mom?”

“Shush, Anthony. You have to rest now.” her voice is sweet as honey.

He can see the figure of Howard behind her, close but not too much, and as he reaches to wipe her tears she begins to crumbles to dust.

“I can’t see you yet, mom.”

“Anthony, dear-”

She’s gone, and he’s alone in this void. He wants Pepper, Peter, he wants to hug Morgan, to feel the breeze of their lake, taste the cool lemonade on barbecue afternoons, to make up with his teammates, his friends, to invent- he’s not done.

He wants to go home but there’s nothing but darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. Short intro but I promise everything else will be longer. Poor everyone :(
> 
> Yeah, Strange did amputate Tony's arm in the middle of battle, and even an idiot like me can partially know how unsanitary that is. TO be fair (I read this in another fic) the energy of the gauntlet could have spread further into Tony's body, killing him.
> 
> Feel free to leave behind any comment on something you found weird or idea for this fic.
> 
> Again, neither of us is a doctor, and even if we did try to research a lot about amputations and burns and other medical procedures, the focus of this fic is more on Tony's psychological recovery rather than the physical. So if there are any medical readers, do tell if I'm making a huge mistake.
> 
> Stay safe everyone
> 
> x)


	2. One Year Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the fic will be on Tony's point of view, but a few chapters will include Peter and Peppers'.
> 
> Warnings; SLight mentions of burns, breakdowns, slight anxiety

_ One year later. _

The constant beeping of the machine had always made him nervous, but after months of weekly visits to the hospital room, Peter had grown accustomed to the noise, and even used it to calm down a few panic attacks.

He stuck his hand in a bag of sugar bombs and grabbed a few, chewing slowly with his eyes stuck on the respirator.

The whole room is very different to the place he had first seen eleven months ago. The patient monitor is covered in blueberry stickers, board games on top of an electrosurgical unit, few colourful strings on the bags of liquids, and a pink scarf wrapped around the oxygen tank. Peter had laughed when Morgan declared she would make things happy for Daddy when (if) he woke up, and proceed to bring new things with every visit. He had to trail behind her constantly to make sure no tube was unplugged.

At the moment the chirpy little brunette was napping, probably asleep on the cabin’s terrace after a long day. Pepper had assured him it was fine to go visit Tony at this time of the night.

“I had a pretty good day, Mr. Stark.” he whispered, eyes now locked on the bandaged from of his mentor, now adoptive father.

“Ned came over to build a Super Star Destroyer with Morgan. I think she had fun. We’ve already watched Revenge of the Sith. Don’t worry, I made sure she didn't watch Anakin get-.”

_ You better, underoos. I don’t want that kiddo to watch someone get chopped up. _

“I think she likes me a lot. She’s been so excited that I live with you guys now, even if it's been a year. Ned also loves her so much.”

_ She’s my kid, Pete. Of course everyone loves her. But what about school? Not dropping your golden grades, are you? _

“School is a little weird. Senior year is a little boring because I already know everything about maths and science-”

_ So cheeky! _

“I do! Mrs. Schartz lets me use the new equipment Pepper donated to the school, so I get to tinker around with things during science class. English class is kind of fun, I think? I’m also learning French as an elective.”

_ Out of all the languages? Why not Italian? _

“I’m not sure why French, I just like the way it sounds. Like cursive handwriting, I think?”

_ Whatever you say, kid. _

“Apart from that the week was uneventful. Oh, that reminds me, according to Dr. Fritz, eschar, like some sort of scar tissue, has begun forming on your skin. It has to be surgically removed, I think? It’s a really weird form of scar.”

_ And yet I’ll still be the most handsome genius of the world _

Peter laughed out loud even if Mr. Stark’s lips had remained closed and un-moving (as always) throughout the whole imagined conversation. He turned to the door, expecting a nurse to step in and catch him muttering about Legos to a man in a year-long coma, munching on sugar bombs.

Crumbling the empty bag and throwing it in the bin, fetching his backpack from the floor and closing the door, he threw one last glance at the bed.

He figured the cafeteria would be mostly empty at eleven-thirty, his stomach suddenly growling with hunger. As he skipped through the hospital halls he waved at elder patients and busy nurses. He had made a few informal friendships during the long stays in the hospital. The first month of Mr. Stark’s comma, many nurses had been supportive of Pepper and Peter.

After buying a tuna sandwich and settling down in a table near the TV he began pondering on the last few months. His heart still ached with the grief of May’s death. When Pepper broke down the news he had become mute to the world for a whole month, and even now, a whole year later, he still felt himself disconnecting every once in a while when thinking of his aunt.

A car accident was the official story. The driver had been blipped off existence and crashed directly into her, death being instant. She didn't suffer, they said. She didn't even know you disappeared, they said. All she knew was that you were with Stark, they said. May Parker didn't even know he was in a flying donnut far away from earth, no; she thought her nephew was tinkering with Stark in the compound, not leaving messages because he was too excited to even remember.

She wasn't aware, and would never know of how he disappeared for five years, never know of how he was cruelly manipulated by Mysterio, would never know how he was now living with the Starks.

Peter wiped away a lonely tear and took a bite of the sandwich.

His phone begun vibrating in his pocket and he answered, trying to make his voice clear from the knot that had formed in his throat.

“Peter?”

“Hey, Pepper.”

He smiled to himself, relaxing when he heard the woman’s voice.

“Are you still in the hospital? It’s a little late.”

“Sorry, I lost track of time.” he said, suddenly guilty of not alerting her of his whereabouts. “Yeah, I’m here. Thought I could swing by after patrol for another visit.”

“It's alright, Peter. Just tell me next time, you know I don’t like to use the trackers.” said Pepper. “Has there been any developments? What has Dr. Fritz told you?”

Peter sighed at the question, a phrase she always asked when he visited alone. He tried to sound hopeful with every reply, but they both knew the probabilities of Tony Stark waking up where scarce.

“Nothing new, but Dennis, you know, that one nurse from Wakanda? He said that now that scab tissue has begun forming it can be surgically removed to help out. I didn’t see doctor Davis though-”

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

“Slow down.”

The brunette stopped, realizing that, as Pepper had warned, his heartbeat was rising. The last thing he wanted, alone in a Hospital cafeteria, was another panic attack. He stayed silent for a moment.

“Do you need me to count for you?” offered Pepper.

“No, thanks. I’m okay now.”

If the redhead did not believe him, she did not say anything.

“Alright then. Morgan asked me to say goodnight for her.”

“Oh, that’s really sweet.”

“I know.” Pepper stopped for a second. “Don’t stay too long in there, Peter. Its not good for you to be in an anbient such as a hospital for too long. I can ask Happy to go fetch you if you want.”

Peter shook his head even if she couldn't see him. “Its fine, I can swing back home. It’s not that faraway with the suit.”

“If you say so. Kiss Tony goodnight for me, please.”

“Sure.”

“Alright. I’ll see you in a few hours. Love you Peter.”

“Sure… love you too.”

After throwing away the sandwich wrapper and leaving a generous tip in the colourful jar of the cashier, he walked back to Mr. Stark’s room, trying to distract himself with everything in the way. He felt ashamed of being terrified, of not easing quickly into the life pepper has so lovingly offered, and yet at the same time he was so grateful for it. 

Unlike the time when he was bitten, during this fall of grace he had an extensive system of support, a home, and the blessing of a tiny little sister. He reckoned that to show his happiness, he would take care of the Stark women, so that when (if) Mr. Stark woke up, he would be welcomed to a perfect family.

“Easy there, Parker. Don’t want you tripping into any oxygen tanks again.”

Peter nearly crashed into a set of ventilators, offering Dennis a cocky smirk. The Wakandan frowned at him.

“Sorry, but to be fair it got in my way!”

“Mm-hmm.”

When he opened the door nothing had changed, and he settled back down on the chair next to the bed. Perhaps he could study for a little while before heading back. He hated lying to Pepper but switching to a cheerful, hopeful expression for her sake seemed too much to bear. Opening his school satchel, he skimmed through the books before taking out a notebook, ready to begin re.writing his notes of the day-

“Visiting hours are over, Mr. Peter.”

Dennis was standing in the doorway with a medical cart, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow.

“Come one, man, let me-”

“No way, Mr. Parker.” the nurse said, approaching the bed. “Mrs. Stark called me to make sure you went home. You’re lucky not to have forty-eight hour shifts like me.”

“I could make you company! You could tell me more about Wakandan medicine. I have plenty of terrible puns and old movie references-”

“No way of changing my mind, child.” Dennis chirped, patting his head before beeping one of the ventilators. “Go home and rest. Its Friday, isn't it? Go enjoy your weekend.”

Peter sighed, knowing he couldn't convince the dark-skinned man with wits. It wasn't the first time he was kicked out of the hospital.

“Fine, I’ll leave.”

After collecting his backpack and throwing on a coat, he stopped by the bedside as Dennis continued his daily procedure. Mr. Stark looked the same- slightly peaceful, slightly disturbed, weary, pale, thin and deeply asleep.

He picked up one of Morgan’s stuffed pegasus from the floor- a gift from Valkyrie- and tucked it by his remaining, bandaged arm. If Mr. Stark woke up while his family was asleep at home, he would be in good company (or at least that’s what Morgan says.

Peter waved goodbye to Dennis and trodden through the halls, finding a deserted window and jumping to the rooftop of the building. He activated his suit, marveled like a dork as the nanotech covered his limbs with metal. 

“Welcome back, Peter. Ready to go home?”

“Hey, Edith.” he mumbled, jumping off the edge and hoping nobody noticed. “Yeah, let's go.”

“Mapping the quickest route.”

He let himself swing against the buildings, soon enough abandoning the lighted civilization towards the woodlands. He was tired, ready to sink in his bedroom and forget about the day.

\--------------------

Pepper had been staring at the phone for fifteen minutes after Peter hung up, lost in a trance of thought and worry. She knew the kid,  _ her _ kid, was suffering as much as herself or any person on this earth that cared for Tony Stark, but she also knew that controlling his actions and tucking him in the confined safety of a home would not make due.

She had years of experience with Tony, and if anything was true, Peter and her husband were extremely alike.

Setting the phone down, she viewed the room before standing up. The dying embers in the fireplace barley gave any light, and the module on the table was still on, a reminder of the corporation meeting she had earlier.

She suspected Peter would not be home for another hour, and trotted to the kitchen, fetching out a few pots. Everything in their home was designed for commodity, specially her favourite hobby in the kitchen. Wooden spice cabinets, stacks of different wheat flours, fresh vegetables from the small garden Morgan and Tony had begun two years ago. In a few moments the kitchen was engulfed in the spicy, marvelous smells of beef stews and curries.

_ I can hear you thinking, Pepps. _

She smiled at the memory, but wiped it away quickly as she stirred the sauce. Her year had been terribly complicated, even with her organized schedules and research. 

Visits to the hospital went from daily to thrice a week, then twice a week, then once a week with Morgan, once herself, and twice Peter. The first month after the battle consisted of everyone licking their own wounds and throwing herself into work while Peter mourned by himself and Morgan lived her days from one friend to another.

After humanity had been living on half the amount of food and oxygen, the sudden reappearance of its missing half made starvation levels rise. Hospitals were filled to the brim, governments shattered to pieces, violence and warfare exploding in many sectors of the world.

Stark Industries had worked along with King T’Challa and other willing organizations to retain order. She herself had been in an endless amount of meetings to allow Princess Shuri to share technological methods for the multiplication of food and foreign aid. All until she herself collapsed.

Pepper Stark wept in shame for the first time in decades, alone with only the sounds of machines and her unconcious husband in a hospital room. She promised him she would never let herself fall so stupidly again.

She could now relate to Tony with how difficult it was to pick up everything and start over.

_ Pepper, my life is used to falling apart faster than a Nature Valley granola bar, you’re probably my only stability. _

She got herself a therapy session once a week, recognizing her weakness. She picked up a grieving, broken teenager and helped him out through the five stages of grief and completed the adoption papers. Peter Parker, now legally Peter Stark, was in the final process of a tortuous therapeutic session; accepting May’s death, accepting his situation, physically dealing with anxiety and a formalized PTSD. She bonded back with her little bundle of joy, promising Morgan quietly as she slept that she would once again thrive as a mother. She worked for humanity, showed only respect and strength.

And she waited for her husband to return.

When closing the refrigerator's door after placing a week’s worth of cooked meals in tupperware, Friday’s voice alerted her of Peter’s arrival.

Making sure everything was quiet as not to disturb Morgan upstairs, she approached the doorway and enveloped Peter in a hug, remaining in the embrace until Peter pulled away.

“Sorry for taking so long.” he said, taking off his shoes and lazily throwing them next to Morgans’.

“It’s fine, Pete. I made dinner.”

“I already ate."

“And yet your stomach is still growling.” she noticed, playfully poking his abdomen.

The terrace warmed automatically when they both carried plates of food and two cups of steaming tea, leaving Peter in wonder. He began poking around in search for the heater as Pepper set their dinner on the small table.

“How’d he do that? I knew the work with nanotech was extensieve but this is pretty amazing! Is the whole house filled with this?!” Peter ranted, excitedly looking at his surroundings.

Pepper laughed. “Is this the first time you noticed the invisible heaters?”

As Peter nodded she recognized the need for an explanation. “There was no way that Tony would let us live in such a secluded part of the country with very frugal lifestyles. He had already designed and built the cabin years before the whole thing. I think just after New York’s attack.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” she answered. “Tony always had the fantasy of caring for a family, but thought of himself as undeserving of children or a loving partner. I guess he had a hard time seeing the beauty in himself.” she sighed, remembering the beaten and weary man she had encountered after the whole Ultron dilema.

The whole cabin was filled with tiny details only noticed by themselves. For starters, the only alcoholic beverages where in a locked compartment with a key code only known to Pepper, Friday unable to ever grant the password to Tony. It had been a hard decision, but for the best. Emergency kits and all sorts of safety nets for a small four year old where installed.

“Every once in awhile he added new features to the home, but we didn't use it until now.”

“That’s pretty amazing. I think I like it way better than the penthouse.”

She nodded, taking a sip of the tea. “It was necessary to have a place to live in near the hospital and school, but I can't bring myself to leave. Even so, if Tony-”

“When Mr Stark.” corrected Peter, eyes more hopeful than before.

She gave out a small smile that probably looked more like a grimace. “When Tony wakes up, doctors will finally be able to analyze the severity of his wounds, and having a secluded, peaceful place to recover in is necessary.”

They finished eating in silence, enjoying the cool breeze and sounds of the forest. 

“Pepper?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“How do you think Mr. Stark will react with his arm missing? ‘Cause something's telling me he won’t immediately think of how to make a new bionic arm.”

Pepper sighed, leaning her head to rest on one hand.

“The truth is that I’m not sure. Dr. Davis informed me that when Tony wakes up he… he might not be the same.”

“I don’t think any of us were the same after battle either.” Peter commented.

Pepper stared at her kid, surprised by the shocking yet deep and truthful statement.

“I guess you’re right.”

The severity and melancholia that followed the comment broke off as the kettle started boiling inside. Pepper stood up and began picking up the dirty plates.

“You should go to bed, Peter. Morgan will want to go swimming early tomorrow morning, and I do want to visit Tony during the afternoon.”

They both washed the dishes and got ready for bed, and Pepper made sure to tuck him in.

“I’m seventeen, Pepper-”

“I know, Pete.”

She sat on the edge of his bed, tracing his jaw with a gentle finger.

“We’re going to be okay, Pete. You and me, for Morgan.” she said.

“I know.”

She smiled, trying to show him how truthful her claim was. After kissing his forehead, she turned off the lights, ready to go to a wayy too big bed.

“Love you, Pepps.”

“Love you too, Peter.”

As Friday turned off all of the lights and initiated the security protocol, Pepper slipped into a very worn Black Sabbath shirt, sliding into the middle of her once shared bed. It became too cold at night sometimes, and too dark without the faint shine a the blue heart.

“Goodnight, Tony.”

She closed her eyes and imagined her husband, swimming with their two children in the lake. One day. For now, they would be just fine.

\--------------------

Steve Rogers pushed back his hair, annoyed of it constantly blurring his vision with the breeze. He leaned on one of the tree trunks, observing the barley lit cabin from the other side of the lake. Stars and a half-sized moon reflected on the crystal waters.

Clint had offered to take this week’s shift for him, but he had refused various times, admitting that he had nothing better to do than watch over the Starks. The former assassin eyed him warily before retreating back to his farmhouse.

Steve had previously shared a few meals with Pepper, offering his support. She wasn’t aware of their shifts to watch over her family.

“Shouldn't you ever knock on the door instead of stalking them at night?”

Bucky placed a steady hand on his shoulder, offering a stronger smile in the darkness. The blonde didn't look back at his friends, instead kept observing as the final window, Pepper’s bedroom, ceased to be light. He let out a breath, sitting down on another fallen tree and finally regarding the long haired brunette.

“I don’t think I will.”

He owed it to Tony to watch over his family, just as the genius had done for decades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pepper bought a fancy Penthouse in the area to be near everyone. Hmm... oh, and also, forgive me, but I coudnt help but dislike Steve's ending. I mean, his whole character arc is built on the feeling of moviong on and letting go, so him going back to Peggy was weird. In this fic he's alive and here. Let me know if you want Black Widow back!
> 
> x)


	3. Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not from the US, and when I was googling what year Peter was at it only said sophtmore and senior and that doesn't give me a clue, so I'm going to make it clear that instead of being in his last year, Peter is still missing two years of high school. For plot.

The glowing orange of Dr. Strange’s magic disappeared when he stopped propping up his arms. Peter watched with interest, until a voice took his attention, now aware of Pepper talking in a hushed voice to someone over the phone. Perhaps some Wakandan official. When he turned his attention back to Mr. Stark his stomach flipped at the sight of the wounds.

“Peter?” 

Dr. Strange wiped his hands on a rag and approached him. “Are you alright? Do you need to step outside for a moment?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Just, it's still a little hard to see him like this.”

The doctor nodded and turned back to his patient. Peter assumed the man had seen plenty of gore and disfigurement over the course of his career. However with Strange’s sudden closeness to the family after the battle, he believed it did have some effect on the magician to see Mr. Stark like that.

Tony’s left ear was nothing but a now dark red hole, with the burned skin extending from his hips, shoulder, neck and collarbone. His face was mostly unaffected except his ear and side. The whole area was blistered purple and red, now dull and scraping but still very much present from the energy radiation. Thin veins of black and silver seem to adorn his whole side.

“Peter?”

“I’m fine!”

Strange glared at him for a second before continuing to apply Silvadene and a few other soothing creams he didn't recognise to the wounds.

“I’ve already told Pepper of the possibility of bringing him home.” Strange begin. “There is nothing more than the hospital can do for him. The amputation and other necessary surgeries went perfectly. The most he would need would be reconstructive surgery, or at least whatever can be done.”

Peter vaguely listened to the taller man, eyes focused in Mr. Stark’s feet with great interest.

“Dr. Strange?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Why did you amputate him in the battlefield?”

The lack of reasoning for Strange’s sudden action months ago suddenly hit him. He had never before question Strange, finding him a severe, all powerful being. Extremely opposite to his mentor.

Strange stopped his work. “When I saw the future that would save us all, I knew the cosmic radiation would kill him very quickly. Dr. Banner, in his stronger state, even Thanos as a stronger being, were severely injured by wielding the gauntlet. Tony, being a weaker human being with a deteriorated heart condition, would die.”

Peter winced involuntarily at the first part of the explanation. Visiting the hospital so often and still participating in a journey of recovery from May’s death, he was used to people sugarcoating facts for him. Strange was blunt, direct, and sometimes even cold.

“Had the radiation not been nullified, it would have stopped his heart in a matter of seconds after Pepper arrived. It wasn't a sanitary or healthy action, but very much necessary.”

With that, the dark haired man kept working in silence, only making sounds when closing the lids or checking vitals.

The kid himself could only ponder and be thankful of Strange’s quick actions during battle, knowing that if the doctor had not been there, Mr. Stark could have probably died. He knew that a perpetual state of negative thoughts and “what ifs” would not help, but as the silence continued and Pepper remained outside, he let himself fall.

Just until Mr. Stark moaned.

Both Strange and Peter shot up, eyes fixed on Tony’s face as his head shook. The sound had been weak, small, and possibly inaudible if they had not been so silent. Shock had them frozen to the floor for a full five minutes, awaiting another form of movement from the billionaire.

Strange was the first to break the silence. “You should talk to him.”

“What?”

“A percentage of people in commas can hear the outside world.” he replied with a softer tone. “Maybe he can’t understand what is being said, but he knows there is life outside.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

Strange removed his gloves and turned to his case while Peter settled down in a chair. He tried to think of things to say, but his mind was blank. A hand rested on his shoulder.

“Physically, he will heal.” said Strange. “But we can’t know when he’ll wake up. Still, perhaps he can recognise your or Pepper’s voice.”

“Dr. Strange?” he murmured.

“Yes?”

“Why are you doing this…? I thought you disliked Mr. Stark.”

Strange seemed offended for a split second before softening his gaze and looking back at Tony. He rubbed his chin, lost in deep thought for a brief moment before replying.

“Your mentor and I have very similar pasts, Peter. With his actions in the endgame battle and Titan I realised he is truly a kinder person than he lets on.” he paused, taking a deep breath. “Tony Stark sacrificed a great deal for all of us. It's the least I can do.”

Peter sent the man a thankful expression and turned back to the unconscious man, vaguely listening to Strange muster a quiet conversation with Pepper.

“Hey Mister Stark. Again. Dr. Strange, maybe you heard him, told me to talk to you. And, erm, I have no clue what to talk about.”

He looked up but nothing had changed.

“I guess I can’t expect much from this. Morgan’s downstairs, by the way. She’s eating ice cream with Dr. Banner. He’s no longer green, actually. Sometime he comes to visit and we tinker around with my suit. I’m not really interested in biochemistry, but nuclear physics is kinda fun. He sometimes comes to visit Ms. Natasha with us.” 

Pepper seemed to have said goodbye to Strange but stayed in the hall.

“We went swimming this morning. Morgan’s actually a really good swimmer. I think she had way more fun than I did... we’re also going to go visit the Bartons this afternoon. Pepper thinks its a good idea to leave the city even if it's just for the day.”

Perhaps he should go get Morgan for her to say goodbye before they went back home.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you! I went with Pepper to Wakanda a few days ago, sorry for not telling you.”

Then again, who would listen?

“Shuri is super nice! I think she would get along with MJ. We played around the lab for hours while Pepper had those long meetings with King T’Challa, Ms. Okoye and Captain Rogers. I was thinking, maybe we can convince Shuri to let us use vibranium for a prosthetic- only if you want one! She made Mr. Barnes a really cool one and helped with Ms. Natasha’s-”

“Peter?”

Pepper’s strawberry blonde hair peeked in the doorway. 

“Are you ready to go?” she asked.

He nodded and picked up his backpack, glancing at Mr. Stark before leaving. The small sound had given him a way too immense hope, perhaps a false one, but at least his mood was elevated enough to hangout around Morgan instead of being a bag of stormy clouds.

“Let’s go.”

\----------

“Pass me the plates, please.”

Peter stacked the dirty dishes in one hand and was careful not to trip on the running children. Morgan was laughing with Nate, both seizing adults’ legs to hide with paint-stained fingers.

“I coming!”

It took Laura several times for Peter to finally let her do the dishes, assuring him that he should go relax. He felt embarrassed, always feeling ashamed of not being of much help to the busy woman.

“It happens to me all the time, kiddo. Yet Laura will let no one touch her cutlery.” a voice said.

The teenager smiled softly when Natasha waved him over, sitting on the porch and watching Clint carry the younger kids around in circles.

“I just wanted to help.” he muttered, sitting besides the redhead.

She smiled, directing her view back to the forest. “Don’t we all?”

Peter had barely known the former assassin before, and was usually terrified of her presence when they first met in Berlin. Over the past few months and many visits to the Barton household, he realised he preferred the company of the woman. She was reserved and was not constantly asking him about his well-being.

“Do you have any plans for the future, Ms. Natasha?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I…” he stuttered, surprised at his own questions. “Not sure. I mean, I still have a year and a half of high school and then, I don’t know. Mr. Stark always insisted I should go to MIT, but, with everything that’s been going on… “

“It’s hard to think of a future?” she offered.

Damn, she was very empathetic. “Yeah.”

“I think many people are currently sharing your thoughts, Peter.” Natasha said, offering a genuine smile. “Myself included. Normal people got ripped apart from their loved ones and are now not thinking of the future, but of enjoying every tiny moment with those they regained.”

Peter could only nod and listen, having learned that the former assassin was a particularly wise person.

“I think our team has it hard, in a way. For year we’ve been wary of whats behind the corner, worried about the future in every second. Say, take my life, for example.” She exhaled, taking out a pack of cigarettes and winking at him. “Don’t tell Clint.”

“You do know that kills your lungs?”

“Kid, I used to throw myself into pointless battles. This is nothing compared to my past.” She lit it, inhaling the smoke before continuing her explanations. “All my life I awaited missions, worried constantly of the family I got, and eventually sacrificed my own life.”

Natasha motioned her legs, encased in the black metal leg braces he himself had designed with Mr. Stark’s old models.

“I never believed I was deserving of a break. Right now, I’m finally getting one.”

“But are you still thinking of the future?”

She waved the cigarette around. “Not at all. I have what I have. Whether I deserve it or not, whether it will go away or not. And I’m enjoying it.”

Peter wondered if she had always portrayed that easy going thought, which reminded him of Mr. Stark. Then again, everything now a days did.

When his teachers approached him of his plans for the future, Peter’s mind went blank for the first time in his life. Before Thanos, his world was bustling in ideas; MIT, the true Stark Internship, working on actually becoming an Avenger, finding May and himself a better home, near the Avengers compound, dating MJ in a fantastic future. Yet as he was dusted off existence, with the eyes of his terrified mentor as a goodbye, every plan faded with him.

Even after picking up the pieces, Mysterio slapped him back to the ground. He figured it could have been worse; his identity could have been out in the open, Mr. Stark could actually be dead, Pepper could have forgotten about him in her grief for her family and he’d be homeless.

Yet here he was, sitting peacefully in the porch of a home while people hummed and children played.

He wondered if this was what Mr. Stark had once wanted for his own family.

Natasha seemed to see the downfall on his face. “What’s on your mind, kid?”

“I’ve had a pretty weird life, not the easiest or the hardest, I think. When Pepper, and, well, all of you helped me through the five stages of grief, it was terrible.”

Natasha was leaning her head on one hand, listening to his words intently.

“I isolated myself from everyone, even hurting Pepper, my friends… they were just trying to help. Then I was in rage, then I just wanted May back, I wanted my old life back. I’m accepting it now, coming to terms with those facts, but… “

“But?”

“Mr. Stark has suffered way more than I have, I’ve read his history since Afghanistan and all. And something tells me that when he wakes up- if he wakes up, not only will the amputation have some effect on him, but also… everything.”

He grew distracted from Natasha’s expression as he waved his hands, depicting the playing children, the laughter and family warmth. 

“Just… all of this is what Mr. Stark wanted, isn't it?” he paused, afraid of admitting what he thought. “And yet he never thought he deserved it.”

Just when he realised he had begun raising his voice, he turned to apologise but heard small choking sound had him whizzing around. Natasha was paying an extreme attention to him, and her eyes were reddened.

“Sorry… I didn't mean to-”

“You’re right kid.” she interrupted, wiping her eyes. “Tony’s always… he’s just so damn stubborn.” she hiccup, smiling tearily.

“I think anyone in this team would give up their lives for him to wake up, kid. He deserves all of what he nearly had, and yet it was ripped away so easily…”

He wanted to tell her something else or try to comfort her, but no words came to mind. Peter could only sit in silence and admire the setting sun as they both kept to their thoughts. The sky was tinged in a beautiful red colour, with streaks of orange and pinks that reminded him of a Wes Anderson film.

“Tony had told us you were very intelligent, and I finally got to see that myself.”

Natasha was smiling fondly at him, and ruffled his hair before looking down at her legs.

“We’re two stormy clouds, aren't we?” he murmured.

“Yeah, but who ever said they disliked the rain?” she punched him playfully. “Now why don't you help dear old Nat walk.”

He mumbled a string of apologise before scrambling up to turn on the machines on her leg, ready to go inside near actually positive people. As he offered his arm for Natasha to regain balance, he caught Pepper smiling at him from the kitchen inside.

\-------------

“Pete?”

“Yeah Morgan?”

“I want a juice pop!”

Peter looked down at the girl’s smiling face, eyes heavy with sleep. He tightened his hold around her, glancing behind his shoulder. Pepper was still tidying up the quinjet from their trip back home. Trees were still shaking, small waves disrupting the mirror-like lake from their landing. The welcoming lights of their cabin shone from the other side of the waters.

“Isn't it a little late for that?” He said. “You ate plenty of brownies with Nate.”

“Daddy would give me juice pops!”

He smiled. After leaving the door open for Pepper, he set Morgan down on the kitchen isle. He supposed he would not be doing his job as a big brother properly without giving her the treat.

“That’s called emotional manipulation, little miss!”

She giggled “Daddy would say that too!”

_ Did he?  _ He took out a juice pops from the ice box and, picking her up gently, went up the stairs to her room.

“I like the cherry ones best.” she said, sticking out a blue coloured tongue after sucking the popsicle.

Peter smiled setting her on the bed and closing the blinds, careful of not stepping on any stuffed animal or toys.

“Did you like spending the day with the Bartons?” he asked, mindlessly organising the room a little. He placed the scatter toys in a white trunk, throwing away a few corn dog wrappers.

“Nate is cool. I also like seeing Aunt Nat! She helped my draw and paint.”

“So you like Nate, huh?” I guess he’s pretty-”

His eyes widened when he saw a dull, yet peculiarly familiar object hidden by a butterfly patterned blanket. As he took it, his fingers seemed to shake a little.

“Pete?”

“Where did you get this, Mo?”

He showed her the golden faceplate of armor, probably belonging to one of Mr. Stark’s old prototypes. Peter felt emotion swell in his chest when Morgan beamed down on it and took it from him, snuggling it in her chest.

“You won’t tell Mommy?” she asked.

“I promise.”

“I took it from Daddy’s workshop.” she explained, diving under the covers of her bed. “He worked there a lot and he’d never miss it!”

Peter wondered for a moment if Mr. Stark had actually known Morgan had the piece of metal. He softened his expression, tickling her feet before fluffing her pillows.

“Time to go to bed, Mo. You want your stuffed sheep… Ginny, or-”

She interrupted him, perching up the mask. “I like this one!”

“Alright. Now sleep, I have school tomorrow.”

Laziness came with the fact that he had school even if he wanted to tell Ned and MJ all about the weekend. He got up after kissing her forehead, turning off the globe lamp and opening the door.

“Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“When will Daddy wake up? ‘Cause I really want to show him my picture.”

His heart seemed to shatter and clench at the same time painfully. Putting on a brave, calm face, Peter approached the bed again and wiped her nose with the edge of his sleeve.

“I’m not sure, Mo. Remember he had a long battle and is pretty tired. But I’m going to go visit him tomorrow afternoon, after patrol.”

“Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Daddy I love him three thousand.”

Swallowing back a knot in his throat and smiling, he nodded.

“G’night Pete.” she said.

“Goodnight, Mo.”

He threw her an air kiss and closed the door, feeling the bitter sweetness of their encounter and he trodden down the stairs. He had a free period the next morning, but he still wanted to go to bed soon after a long day. As he sneaked behind Pepper, ready to hug her goodnight, his plans change.

Pepper was standing up, covering her mouth with a hand and visibly shaking. Dread pooled in his stomatch, picturing the worst.

“Pepper? What’s wrong?” he asked, taking her elbow.

“Peter.”

He winced. “Yeah, its me. What's wrong?”

Tears began streaming down her face.

“It‘s Tony.”

A stone wedged itself in his throat and he couldn't breath, couldn't ask her if his mentor was dead, or-

“He woke up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After writing the final part I realised Peter has never seen Tony's relationship with Morgan... 
> 
> Oh well, eventually he will.
> 
> As for the cliffhanger, I have a lot from where that came from.


	4. Waking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty excited for this chapter tbh.
> 
> Warnings: Slight body horror, hallucinations, mentions of suicide and self-destructive behaviour. If you want to skip it, don't read the italics.

_"Anthony? Are you paying attention?”_

_His mother’s eyes are not her own. The surroundings are an endless white. There’s no way to wake up, he’s tried. He’s been sitting on the plain chair for ages, staring into his distant coffee cup, and all he can think of are her eyes._

_Throughout his childhood, he learned not to look at people’s eyes, or he would incite anger. Only Jarvis’s eyes, a warm brown, where in Tony’s peripheral view at times in his childhood. And, of course, his mother’s. She always had pretty green orbs, a colour he didn't inherit. He always disliked his own eyes._

_“Anthony, you can’t go back. You’re dead, darling.”_

_The eyes of the woman in front of him are pure black._

_Again the memory shifts and for a while he floats in the void of unconsciousness before setting down someplace else. Everything is just as bizarre as before, and the field he is in is on no known location._

_“Tony? Why are you here?”_

_Pepper’s hair is dyed mossy green, Peter has a beard resembling his and they are both refusing to approach him. He does not look up, tired of the same forms appearing in his dreams._

_As everything shifts, Peter is closer, older, in a suit with a bolo tie._

_“I’m never getting married, Mr. Stark. Love does not exist.”_

_When he looks up, the boy is hanging from a tree, a thin noose surrounding his throat._

_For the first time in hours (days, years?) Tony chokes and sobs, clinging to the figure’s legs and crying disgustingly, but when he holds shaky hands to undo the noose, the body speaks._

_“You killed me, Tony.”_

_Obadiah Stane’s asphyxiated face looks down on him._

_His scream is silent. He is running once again, now in the middle of a frozen dessert, afraid that if he looked back, the hanging tree would still be there._

_“Have you accomplished it? Global mass destruction?”_

_Justin Hammer, with his ridiculous shades and hands casually stuffed in his pockets looks down on him, and he realizes he has tripped and fallen. The man’s face morphs, and Ivan Vanko’s face smiles down on him, bloodied. He falls to his knees besides Tony, revealing his massacred gore of a body, falling apart in a spectacle of blood._

_When he opens his metal toothed grin to speak, Howard’s voice comes out._

_“Peace in our time, Anthony.”_

_Bile clawed through his throat but when he reached over to puke, only white water came out in foamy bubbles. He chokes._

_“Anthony? Are you paying attention.”_

_Again, his mother, the cup of coffee, her black, beady eyes._

_“I want to go home, mom.” he whispers._

_“Oh, but Anthony,” she smiles. “You are home.”_

\-------------------

When Pepper had stared at him with weepy eyes and told him Tony Stark was awake, Peter had expected the man to be fully conscious, flirting with a nurse, or killing one of the doctors for cutting off his arm. Instead, he got and even paler looking corpse of a mentor and a very disturbed looking Stephen Strange. 

They had arrived to the hospital at three am after dropping off a fast asleep Morgan back at the Barton’s home. Peter had spent and whole hour by Tony’s bedside and an arm wrapped around Pepper while Strange and Dr. Davis argued in hushed voices.

Strange believed that Tony could wake up at any moment, but the grey haired doctor disagreed and insisted that he be rushed to surgery. Neither doctor had explained what on earth had happened, and Pepper was in too much of a shock to even explain what she meant by “he woke up”. After the hour and not apparent movement from the genius, he was kicked out to the cafeteria.

He bought himself a biscuit and finally opened the group chat after a billion notifications vibrated from his phone. Just as he begun reading them, and incoming call interrupted.

“Dude! What is happening?! Mrs. Potts literally called us an hour ago saying you needed some sort of emotional support but its like, what, three am? Then she said something about Mr. Stark and you not coming to school, then she was just so shocked and don't hang up or say anything_”

Peter could only press the phone to his ear while listening to Ned ramble fastly.

“Ned.”

MJ’s voice sounded worried, which surprised him, but her warning immediately silenced his dark haired friend.

“Sorry, sorry Pete. Just, what the hell happened?”

“Let him take his time.” warned the girl. “Listen, loser. It doesn't matter if you don't want to talk about it. We can talk about Venice or-”

His breathing increased rapidly when he thought of Quentin, and his thoughts raced to the fact that Mr. Stark wasn't aware of the whole Mysterio catastrophe. Peter wondered that if Tony woke up, he would have to tell the man himself before the media questioned him-

“-or not. Peter? Idiot? You with us?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” he said, rapping his foot violently against the floor. “I… I don’t really know what’s going on.”

“Yes?”

Ned was completely silent, either from empathy towards him or in fear of angering MJ.

“Dennis, the Wakandan exchange nurse, remember?” he paused, waiting as they agreed. 

“Isn't Dennis a non-wakandan name?” asked Ned.

“It's not his real name.” he muttered. “It's a nickname they gave him at the hospital.”

He was silent for nearly five minutes and expected some form of complaint, but his awesome, amazing friends patiently waited.

“He called Pepper last night and told her he had awakened, and that it would be good if we came to the hospital. When we arrived he was unconscious again.”

MJ hummed in acknowledgement, but as she started talking again he hung up. Guilt stung Peter as he stuffed his phone back in his hoodie pocket, but he wasn't feeling like crying right now. Ned and MJ would understand. It wasn't the first time this happened.

After throwing away the biscuit wrapper he trotted back to the room, finding Dr. Strange muttering to himself in the halls. The sorcerer immediately became silent when he spotted Peter, and even opened the door for him.

“-but then he what, moaned, said something?”

“Mrs. Stark, we’re not sure. No one was present in the room.”

“How-? We hired people, nurses to be constantly in watch! For the first time in a year long comma after a traumatizing battle, my husband woke up and saw no one present!?”

“Mrs. Stark, I apologise on behalf of this-”

“I am not angry at you, Dr. Davis, my issue is with the fact that my husband was alone. You yourself said he had to be accompanied at all times for the sake of his mental health!”

“Pepper, please relax. I know it-”

“Don’t get involved, Stephen, I don’t-”

“Pepper, Tony was barely even conscious. He just opened his eyes then fell back again, they knew it happened because of his heart rate-”

“I swear, Stephen Strange, that is not the issue here and-

“Pepper?”

Four pairs of eyes turned to Peter and he instantly regretted intervening. Pepper’s lower lip began to tremble and he rose to take her hand and ease her into a chair. She covered her face with one hand and said nothing more. Dr. Strange sighed and followed everyone outside the room.

He nodded at Peter, who kneeled next to the chair and took Pepper’s hand. It was his turn to comfort her.

“Pepper?”

“I’m sorry, Peter.” her voice was surprisingly steady. “I just, I can’t bear to see him like this. It's been too long, and… and what if he dies?”

Peter could only rest his head against her knee and rubbed the back of her hand.

“I know I shouldn't say it, but- but what can I do about Morgan? I dont have the heart to tell her her father’s no longer asleep, but dead, and…” she took in a deep breath. “And what about you?”

Peter swallowed back down the knot in his throat and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

“Pepper, he’s far from dying. You heard Dr. Davis. He said a few words and opened his eyes before succumbing again. Maybe he’ll wake up any minute from now.”

It took Pepper a short time to recompose, wiping her face with a handkerchief. She straightened her back and helped Peter up.

“I’m fine now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” she assured, then checked her watch. “Do you want to go get some sleep?”

He shook his head. “I’m okay for now, but maybe you can take a nap.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll take watch for a little while.”

She nodded and laid down on the couch near the window, in a position that allowed her to have full view of Tony’s bed.

“Wake me up if anything happens.”

Peter half expected the redhead to keep her eyes open for a few more minutes, but as soon as she closed them, she fell asleep. The teenager covered her up with one of the spare blankets in order to not feel bad with what he was going to do. He spared a glance at Tony before quietly opening the window and climbing to the rooftop.

The city had begun to awaken, but the sun was still hidden. As he settled next to the window, he closed his eyes and felt a strong wind slap his hair against his forehead, making him shiver.

When Peter opened his eyes again, the lights of a nearby building had lit up, showing off an amazing, yet heartbreaking painting.

It was the classical Iron Man image: scarlet and gold armor, extending an open palm with it‘s laser shining, surrounded by those preppy halos in shades of teal. He had seen dozens of these painted in every wall, school, or highway, a tribute to the saviour of the world.

Peter had always disliked most.

This pictures, paintings, they all depicted a man of iron with the strength and warrior-like-ness of technology, ignoring the even kinder, braver, different man behind the mask. Peter had only noticed a few street pictures that included Tony Stark instead of the cold armor.

The image of Iron Man imposing his weapons upon him disturbed Peter too much, and he sadly retreated back. Pepper was fast asleep, chest rhythmically rising and falling.

He sighed for nothing in particular, scooping up his phone from his pocket.

**Chaoticbondagequeen:** _We’re here for you, loser._

 **gUyinTheChair:** _dunno when, but send us a text bro_

**_gUyinTheChair has rename the group chat SadSpideyHoursSupportGroup_ **

He giggled at the chat, sending a thumbs up and a spider emoji before turning off the device.

Tony’s face looked a little more peaceful when he looked up. He was battered, bandaged, and still breathing with the oxygen mask, but his face had regained a darked tone from the yellowish pale of hours before.

“Wake up, Mr. Stark.” he muttered. “We’re all waiting over here.”

\------------------

Seven hours dragged by slowly, with not movement from Tony except the occasional mumbling in his sleep. After a two hour long nap, Pepper had awoken refreshed and began working on her laptop. Peter spent the rest of the morning with his head against her leg, curled up in the couch facing the bed.

The only sounds of the room were of Tony’s heartbeat and Pepper’s fingers dancing on the keyboard. Dennis brought them a pair of breakfast paninis and some fresh coffee, but neither one had eaten, just sipped on the caffeine. Dr. Davis checked on them thrice, twice to re-bandage Tony, once simply to check their well being.

Peter suspected she was embarrassed over the incident of Tony’s first wakening, but didn’t say anything.

The typing was making him anxious, curling tight onto himself and beginning to nib at his nails. He winced as he jerked back a piece of skin roughly, but ignored the pain and kept on staring at the bed.

He pictured Morgan, faraway in the farmhouse, unaware of the severity of their situation. To that lovely little girl with huge brown eyes, her father was only taking a long nap, and everything was going to be fine. Her youth allowed her only to see her present, and that present was playing with Nate and Auntie Nat while eating homemade brownies.

“Peter? Your thumb is bleeding.”

Pepper shut her laptop and took his hand before he could hide it away. As he took a look, it became obvious that he was intentionally ripping the nail apart, driven into the skin and bleeding.

The woman was quiet as she picked up a bandage from the nurses’ cart and began cleaning the wound.

“Sorry.” he muttered.

Pepper looked at him sympathetically. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” he replied, trying to look less disturbed.

She nodded and opened her laptop again. “Maybe we can facetime Morgan later. It's-” she checked her clock. “-nearly ten in the morning. She should be awake. I sent a letter to her school, regarding her absence this week. It’s for the best...in case of anything happening.”

Peter only hummed back, barely aware of her words. He could have sworn he saw some movement in Tony’s face, and locked his gaze on the avenger’s face. 

“Pepper.” His voice sounded hoarse. “Pepper, look.”

The woman turned to see her husband, and his face suddenly twitched. Neither of them heard the laptop crashing on the ground. 

For the first time in twelve months, Peter saw Tony’s warm brown eyes blink.

They both rushed to his bedside, and Pepper pressed on the call button absently. Tony blinked a few times, panic suddenly flaring in his eyes. The woman took his oxygen mask off. His lips parted, but only a few raspy sounds came out.

“Hey, Tony. It’s Pepper.”

Peter nearly knocked over the oxygen tank when reaching for a glass of water, refusing to take away his gaze from Tony’s face. He held it carefully for the few seconds that it took Tony to recognize the glass. The man sipped on the straw and cleared his throat.

“Morgan?” he rasped out, voice barely above a whisper.

When Pepper’s voice drowned in a choke, Peter stepped in. “She’s with the Bartons, Mr. Stark. She’s safe and will be very happy to see you, she…”

Leaving Tony acknowledging his presence in a proud, scared look, he rushed to the spot on the floor where his backpack carelessly laid. He extracted one of Morgan’s drawings from it and rushed back to the bed, propping it up in the man’s lap.

The drawing was made with an infinite amount of coloured pencils, and showed a childish depiction of them as a family; brown haired Tony in his Iron Man suit; Peppers hair, ironically the colour of strawberries; Peter in his own suit as well, and herself with a hero's cape. Their cabin was drawn with detail behind, including her patterned tent. 

“She asked me to give you this, and- and tell you that… “ He paused to meet his eyes with Tony’s. “- that she loves you three thousand.”

Tony twitched a smile, but it faded when he moved his head to the side. Peter noticed how the man tried to hide his pain, but they both knew his head was probably on fire. 

“Pepper… my, my arm.”

Pepper placed an ever so gentle hand to cradle the uninjured side of his face, wiping away a tear the rolled from his eye.

“They had to, Tones. You were hurt very badly.” she explained. “Stephen amputated it on the battlegrounds before the radiation got to your heart.”

“The…. others?”

Peter, who hadn't noticed he was holding his mentor’s cold hand, replied, silently agreeing with Pepper to take turns on the endless list of questions Tony could have.

“Mr. Barnes returned to reside in Wakanda for the time being while a new compound is being built.” He said. “Mr. Captain Rogers has been some time everywhere… Ms. Natasha is living with the Bartons.”

Tony was giving them his undivided attention. “And you?”

Peter suddenly became very interested in the heart rate monitor, unconsciously tightening his grip on Tony’s hand. Fortunately, Pepper noticed his silence.

“As we had forseen, honey. Peter’s been living with us. Morgan’s thrilled to have a big brother, and Ned and MJ visit very often.”

The teenager was thankful that she didn't bring up his school trip to Europe or May.

Tony nodded. “How long was I in a comma?”

Pepper gulped but also answered the question, hesitantly. “Tony, you were severely injured. We didn’t know-”

“Pepps, please.”

Peter’s stomach twisted with dread, and he assumed it also did for Pepper. However, when he felt tears pool in his eyes, her facade remained brave.

“You were in a coma for twelve months, Tony.”

Tony’s gaze was locked on Pepper’s for an infinity. Peter could see a million emotions shining in his glassy, reddened, exhausted eyes, but there were too many to describe. Sadness, shock, terror, anger, disgust, misery.

He felt extremely useless, unable to find the words to comfort this man he so much admired. Perhaps Tony expected he would die, had embraced his finale and was afraid to return to the world of living. Pepper, already sitting on the bed, carefully position herself against his chest and motioned him to come closer.

Ignoring his own emotions of shame and awkwardness, Peter also slipped and arm around Tony’s torso, burying his face in the man’s neck. For nearly five or six minutes, Tony stared at nothing, taking in Pepper’s words. When he finally reacted, he buried his face in Pepper’s hair. When Peter began to pull away in order to give them privacy, Pepper wrapped her other arm around him.

“Stay.” Tony grasped, in a shaky smile.

He complied quietly, again burying himself in the odd embrace, wanting nothing but the calmness and security that Tony was awake, and, for the moment, safe. He could feel the soft sobs of his mentor.

“Tony?”

“Its okay, Pepp.” he whispered in her hair. “I’m happy to be back.”

Peter was also happy. A joy in an odd, heartbreaking, bitter, we’ll be okay kind of way. But he was happy.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Ned and MJ, but this pic probably won't have much of them. I was originally going to make this a Tony-centric whumpt, but Peter's POV is interesting to write. Let me know in the comments if you'd like me to keep that too!
> 
> Stay safe everyone
> 
> x)


	5. Dire Explanations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's not as angsty, and its more of a filler episode, but things will get better, I promise x)

Tony’s head was buzzing as the people before him explained the long, detailed process of his healing and amputation. His attention jumped from one point to another, incapable of focusing on one person for longer than five minutes. It all felt as if it was in a long distance from him, failing to react to something said to him immediately.

Years ago, when he first met Bucky Barnes, apart from the incial terror, anger, and violence of their encounters, he had admire the piece of work of his arm. Its agility, speed, how easily the fingers were communicated, its connections with the nerves, its ranger. 

He had even joked to Pepper, during the aftermath of one of the battles, that he might even cut off his own arm to have such prototype. It never came to mind that he would actually be caught in such situation.

“The wound itself is completely healed, and any prosthetic of your wish can be added. Physical therapy for adapting will depend on the new arm.” explained Dr. Davis, mostly speaking to Pepper, sitting to his right, rather than to the amputee himself. “As for the burns, there is not much we can do about the scarring and marks, I apologize. 

“The radiation caused third-degree burns on your shoulder, back, and one side of your face and torso. We used skin grafts from your own legs, or at least as much as we could. Your back and face were able to be repaired with this, but what you see now in a mirror is all that can be done. Nerve damage… “

Tony’s attention was stuck on Peter when she stopped talking about the skin damage.

_ He shouldn't be here _

Tony had seen injuries of this gravness in various places, but he suddenly wished to cover Peter’s ears or kick him out of the room. The boy was curled up in the couch, also looking at Dr Davis. The brunette couldn't help but notice the heavy bags under the teenager’s eyes, slightly reddened, and the way he was ripping his nails apart with fidgety bites.

“Finally, it would be best for you to stay in the hospital at least two more nights.” concluded the doctor. 

“I want to monitor your heart functions, but since you spent so long in a comma, most of the injuries you feel are not severe or life-threatening. I am worried about your left ear hearing. I can prescribe daily doses of medicine, specifically morphine-”

Tony’s gaze snapped back to Pepper, and she understood. “No morphine. Please.”

Both Stephen, who had been standing in front of Peter, and Dr. Davis regarded him skeptical but did not question their decision.

“Of course. It is very probable that your hearing will be better in the next few days, Mr. Stark. Even in a state of comma, you’re body was not truly resting, so it will be natural that you are tiered. That is all I have to say. Any questions?”

Everyone in the room turned to look at Tony, but he shook his head, wanting to be alone with his family again.

“Very well, then. I’ll leave you alone. Dennis, or Dr. Strange, if you prefer, will come to check on you this evening. Have a good day.”

The grey haired woman shook hands with both him and Pepper before leaving, nodding at a very absent Peter. Tony himself was staring at STrange, finding it odd how easily the doctor received orders.

The man nodded at Pepper and put a hand near his knee. “It's good to have you back, Tony.”

_ Thank you? _

“Yeah. Thanks for everything too.”

Even if he was a little awkward between the two of them, Strange seemed to have an easier relationship with both Pepper and Peter, ruffling the teen’s hair as he closed the door. 

Pepper smiled again. “He was very worried for you.”

He was hardly hear what she said, but when he tried to ask his wife to repeat herself, a nurse stepped in with a tray of food. She placed it with a half-smile on his lap, leaving. Tony looked down; some oatmeal, chicken sandwich, and a smoothie. His stomach longed for a cheeseburger but he didn't complain before shakily eating with his right hand.

After a few bites and many failed attempts to eat the food with only one hand, his stomach churned with disgust and he pushed the tyra aside.

“I see Morgan’s been around here.” he gulped. “What… ”

“She just knows her father took a longer nap than usual, and was very sick.”

“Oh.” he hadn't known what exactly to expect, but he hasn't failed to notice the stuffed pegasus, or the pinned drawings and pink scarf. “Where is she, again?”

“With Natasha in the Barton’s home.”

”Hmm… what?”

Last time he checked, Natasha Romanov was dead in the bottom of a cliff, faraway in the cold wastelands of Vormir. His hearing on the left ear, or at least the gaping hole of what used to be left ear, was not functioning correctly, but not as severe as to have him confusing names.

“Morgan is with Nat-”

“I heard you, Peeps.”

“Pepper, he doesn't know.”

Peter had approached the bed without him noticing, now sitting next to Pepper. The redhead’s eyes widened with realization and added to Tony’s confusion.

“Nat’s alive?” he asked.

The pair nodded. “After the whole battle, Mr. Rogers went back in time to return the stones, Mr. Stark. I’m not sure exactly what he did, thought. They mentioned something about extra pym particles, and this guy called Scott, you know, Ant-man-”

“Get to the point, Peter.” intervened Pepper when catching his bewildered expression.

“The point is that Mr. Rogers came back with Ms. Natasha, but her injuries from the fall paralysed her like in Mr. Rhodey's case.”

Tony could only nod and race in thought. He wondered what had happened to Bruce, if they had gotten together after all. He felt as though he had a million questions zooming in his mind louder than the buzzing on his ear.

“Tony?”

“What?”

Pepper sighed. “I asked if you were feeling alright.”

“Oh, sorry.” he muttered, rubbing his eyes with one hand and feeling the empty space on his left for the fifth time that day. “I’m tired.”

“That’s okay. Why don’t you take a nap? I’m sure tomorrow a lot of people are going to want to see you.”

He winced at that, scared of having people see him in such a vulnerable state. It still felt too early to even move. He tried to smile but his mouth twitched to a yawn. Pepper arranged his pillows while Peter gently lifted the tray and placed it on a cart by the door.

“You won’t go?”

“We’ll wait right here, darling.”

Pepper settles down on the couch again, scooping up the laptop that had fallen hours ago. Only Peter stays by his side, with a worried expression.

“Hello there, Underoos. Did you tinker in my lab while I was gone?”

The teenager give him a half-smile.

“I, erm, yeah. Kind of. I’ve also been living with Pepper, and Morgan, I mean, I’m not sure if that’s fine with you, now that you’re awake… “

It clicks to Tony that Peter was trying to ask whether he wanted him to stay. Pepper shot him a concerned glare from her spot in the couch as Peter keeps talking.

_ It's your turn now. _

“Kid.”

He wished he could speak in a higher volume, but Peter’s attention snaps silent immediately.

“I’m… I’m sorry about May.”

_ Shit, bad idea. _

Tear swell in the boy’s eyes but he wipes them hastily.

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark, I… I’ve come to terms with it.”

To Tony it was obvious that something was still bugging him badly.

“And as for you being here… I couldn't be happier. Pepper… she and I had already discussed that if one day you came back, we would take you in.”

Tears ran down the teen’s cheeks, and he hugged Tony tightly, but stepped back when he let out a strangled gasp from the rough motion.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark-”

“It’s fine, kid, just a little warning next time.”

The brunette leaned for a hug with more precautions, and Tony shot another less terrified look at Pepper. Peter's tears soaked his shirt and retreated, letting him go. Tony could still see grief in the boy's face, and was sure they would have to talk later, but for now, he wanted to sleep..

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are probably a lot of medical inaccuracies... I did do a little research on the healing process of burns, but I'm still no doctor.
> 
> Its also a filler episode, but in the next one Tony goes home so bear with me. Also, the next few chapter won't include as many avengers because I already deviated from canon a lot.
> 
> Feel free to leave suggestions behind! :)


	6. Little Morgan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, yey!
> 
> I've gotten caught up with other fics I had to update, but I was already posting nearly daily for this one so sorry not sorry.   
> Enjoy!

Rhodey came to visit the next morning. Tony was originally uncomfortable with the idea- anyone seeing him in this state of vulnerability. He had already scanned his reflection in the mirror a few times, and what he saw was definitely not himself; a pale, thin man with stubble beard and bandages that didn't completely covered the burn marks.

However, when the colonel arrived with a bag of cheeseburgers and teary eyes, all insecurities vanished. Pepper smiled as Rhodey carefully embraced the amputee and nodded in encouragement.

“Well… “ said the man once he had settled on a chair. He motioned the wrapped up stump of his shoulder. “That’s gonna make an epic story.”

Tony wetly laughed for the first time in the day. This seemed to relax Rhodes, who was visibly terrified of saying something inappropriate.

“We can give you two a moment if you’d like.” Pepper offered, placing her hand on Peter-s still napping form.

Rhodey nodded. “Why don’t you both go home and take a shower? No offense, but the kid looks beaten up, and, Pepper, you always look dazzling, but spending days in a hospital doesn't suit you.” 

Tony nodded in unison at his wife. “He’s right. By this rate your eyebags are bigger than mine.”

He waited for her to say yes, knowing that convincing her if she disagreed would be impossible.

“You two will be fine?” 

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Stark.” joked the dark skinned man. “After this I’m sure to keep my eyes on him. No more bucket list compilations.”

She grinned before shaking Peter awake, who mumbled something about five more minutes before sitting up slowly. His own eyes looked worse than Pepper’s, and the bed hair Tony sometimes caught in his lab during the actual internship was wilder than before. Nothing that couldn't be fixed by a long, hot shower.

Peter’s voice was groggy. “Mr. Rhodey! Sorry, I was asleep. Good morning Mr. Stark.”

Tony nodded slowly at Peter with a half-smile while Rhodey turned to him. “Why couldn't you be like that in high school, huh? All polite, with ‘Mrs’ and ‘Mr’s?”

“Don’t lecture me, Rhodes, I nearly died.” he said, rubbing his eyes and pointing at Pepper. “He gets it from his mother's side.”

Peter’s eyes shone with both pride and grief, but he jumped up to start picking up a few books before Tony could say something else. Pepper approached and kissed his forehead before leaving.

“Maybe I can bring Morgan with us when we come back. She’s dying to see you.”

“I can imagine.” he replied, smiling crookedly. “Just don’t let her jump on my stomach.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

Tony scoffed, placing his remaining limb on Rhodey’s shoulder. “I’m fine, Pepps. Besides, now that the Colonel is here, I’m not gonna be in any trouble.”

The redhead didn't look convinced. “Are you sure? Don’t you want Dennis to bring you any morphine, or-”

He swallowed a cry when he realized his right arm couldn't reach her face. Instead, he just shook his head. “No morphine, Pepps. My decision, for the best. And I’m fine.”

Finally she nodded, and kissed him again before holding Peter’s hand, who was waiting in the doorway with a blank expression. He made a mental note to check on him later.

“Love you.”

“Love you too, Peppermint.”

When the pair waved and finally closed the heavy door, his smile faded tiredly. Rhodey was anticipating his deflation, and simply regarded him with a sad, but genuine, expression.

“So no morphine?”

“No morphine.”

His dark hand landed solidly on his shoulder before he stood up and began opening the blinds.

In Tony’s opinion, Rhodey looked healthier than ever. He had put on muscle and had a perfectly balanced use of his legs, even wore the leather jackets he once refused to wear. Perhaps he hadn't noticed his friend’s improved lifestyle before, or this was just a glow up during the year after the battle.

“This place sucks, you know?” said Rhodey as he picked up crumbled sandwich wrappers. “It's too dull, and last time I saw you, you hated the smell of latex and disinfectant.”

“Don’t have much of a choice.” he muttered, staring at the tray of cold breakfast.

“How much longer until they let you leave?”

“If all goes well, this afternoon. But considering my luck… “

When he took the spoon with his right hand it clattered back on the tray. Rhodey stopped his pickup and settled back down next to him.

“...Dr. Davis might come back in and tell me I have liver cancer.”

He instead picked up the chocolate milk carton and sipped on the straw.

“She seems like a fairly trustable doctor, if you ask me. You look better than last time I was here.” Rhodey began unpacking a cheeseburger from the bag. “Any dietary needs?”

“None that I care of.”

Rhodey passed him the burger, and even if his appetite had disappeared since he had woken, Tony took a hearty bite. It tasted delicious- melting cheese, juicy patty, and some honey mustard, yet at the second bite he placed it on the plate.

“How’s everybody?” he asked nonchalantly.

“All over the place.” his friend said, already finished with half of his own burger. “Pepper and I began re-building the compound. It's not as fancy as your design, but fits well as a living space for those who have nowhere else. It changed locations, a little bit nearer to your home actually. So far only me, Wanda, Bruce and Wilson are living there.”

“The others?”

“Steve’s gone solo. He drops by every once in a while, but apart from that, he’s all over the world, helping out. Barnes went back to Wakanda, mostly to keep fixing his memory. Thor went off with those space people, leaving Valkyrie as queen of Asgard. Clint went back home, and Natasha is living with them.”

Tony huffed out, trying to chew on the meat. “So Natasha’s alive?”

“It came to a shock for all of us.”

He imagined it did. Apparently, she was taking her injury better than he had in the past two days. Tony felt happy for her, yet couldn't help but wonder what they would think of him.

“Tony.”

“Huh?”

“Tell me the truth, will you?” said Rhodey. “Are you okay?”

He shrugged, crumpling the milk carton with his hands. “Funny question, don’t you think? Am I okay? Its like I only have two options- yes or no. Terrible formatting.”

His eyes avoided Rhodey’s gaze as he scanned the room uncomfortable.

“Do you want to answer it?”

“Not really, no. I’m fine, but I’m not. Does that make sense?” he snapped his gaze back at Rhodes and flinched violently at the pain that shot through his side. “I should be just fine, Rhodes. I survived a battle I was not meant to survive. My wife and daughter are fine. Peter, that kid I wanted to adopt since forever, is now legally my child and he seems better, considering his maternal figure died while he was in a space donut. So, technically speaking, I’m fine.”

“But your not, right?”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t feel fine, but I am.”

“Tony, that doesn't make sense.”

“Since when am I the logical one, Rhodes?”

“I think you really want to deny your feelings about everything.” Rhodes interjected.

“I guess.”

He went red in embarrassment when Rhodey offered him a sympathetic glance, and munched on the burger before making himself swallow drily.

Rhodey said no more and instead turned on the TV. He vaguely acknowledged the news; a woman, the type he classified as a stiletto bimbo, was speaking with her modulated voice about Wakandan’s recent aid to the continent of Africa. Rhodey switched through various channels every fifteen or ten minutes, perhaps hoping to help Tony get a sense of reality.

Tony just stared without seeing, uninterest in the last scientific breakthrough for farming organic foods. He was tired and numb after the hearty conversation. He expected himself to feel like crying, or be happy of finding the army officer in good health, but no emotion came. He was too afraid that if he let any feeling through, the reality of his situation would wash over him.

“... was discussed in the United Nations Conference. King T’Challa has assured that vibranium weapons will not be shared with other nations, rather the advanced technology that has been used to enable better farming and security. He believes that weapon exchange would not benefit anyone, rather inciting violence-”

Change of channel.

“The Congress of the United States has retreated many ways of financial support towards Latin American countries- for example, the Central American Regional Security Initiative, which has combated illegal trade of drugs in South America for years, has lost all support. Since 2008, it had received approximately eight-hundred million-

Rhodey threw away the Burger King bag before taking the remote.

“... and Dr. Bruce Banner are some of the thirty-three international scientists that has joined forces in the first Continental Aid Convention in Switzerland, made to discuss and find solutions to world hunger due to the catastrophe five years-”

The buttons were louder than usual when clicked.

“Stephanie’s Sinclairs eye-catching pictures of the street tribute for Iron Man, also known as the genius billionaire Tony Stark, have made it to both covers of the National Geographic and Time’s magazine. These pictures depict… “

When Rhodey reached for the control to change the channel, Tony’s hand stopped him.

“Are you sure-”

“I want to see.” he implored, and looked back at the television.

“- the recent tributes made to the hero for bravely snapping his fingers and defeating the infamous Thanos, giving back humanity its other half. Sinclair’s series show graffiti, paintings, and sculptures of worldwide range…”

The woman’s voice faded out as Tony’s attention was captured by the pictures. Colorful and bright armors graffiti into the streets of California. Small shrines beneath his mask with candles and flowers in the train stations of Italy and India. A surreal sculpture of his smaller gauntlet made by recycled materials from a school in Paris.

He looked down to his lap, trying to wipe the surge of emotion. Rhodey turned off the screen.

“Tony?”

“I’m fine.”

Rhodey nodded and turned the device back on, but switched the channel. An episode of Friends started playing and in no time Rhodey was chuckling to himself. Tony swallowed heavily. This was no time to break down. Morgan would be here soon.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Remember to be gentle, Maguna. Daddy’s still hurting.”

“What does gentle mean?”

When Pepper’s voice trailed off, Peter sweeped in. “Remember that time we found a lost duckling?”

“Yeah!”

“When we carried him back to his mom, you were sweet and very careful with it. That’s being gentle.”

Morgan cocked her head to the side, smiling. “Daddy’s a duckling now?”

“Uhh, no, Mo.” replied Peter, taking her in his arms. “But he’s a little more delicate. When you see him, ask him for a hug before you do it.”

“Oh.”

Morgan’s wide brown eyes still lingered in confusion as she clutched his shirt, but Peter believed that would be enough. Dr. Davis had warned them of the dangers of having a child touch the still burn scars, but also told them how important it was for Tony to have his loved ones nearby.

Even so, sugarcoating Tony’s injuries had proven particularly difficult. Peter remembered how May and Ben tried to coax him gently through his own parent’s death. He was sad for a while, but after a cup of ice cream he had quickly perked up into the cheerful child he once was.

Peter expected it would be the same for Morgan, but he could still feel Pepper’s stress and worry.

“Is Daddy coming home with us, Mummy?” she asked as they walked through the parking lot.

Pepper stored her phone in her purse. “Yes, he is, Morgan.”

“Then where’s Happy?”

“He’s gone to get the new car.” said Peter.

“Why new?”

Peter shot a panicked glance at Pepper, who shrugged apologetically. “Well… I don’t think Mr. Stark’s going to be able to walk when we get there, Mo.”

“Why?”

“He is still very tired.”

Morgan nodded and for a light second Peter felt relief that she wasn't asking more complicated questions. They entered the elevator and waited in silence. His still wet bags clung to his forehead from the warm shower. They had stopped by the rarely used penthouse in order to clean themselves. Happy had arrived shortly after with Morgan.

“Petey?”

“Yes?

“Why do you call Daddy ‘Mr. Stark’?”

Peter blushed in embarrassment and tightened his hold around the little girl.

“Well… That's what I’ve always called him.” he replied.

“You should call him Dad now Petey.” Morgan beamed, stroking the hair of a smaller stuffed hedgehog. “You’re my big brother, right?”

Her huge, chocolate eyes stared up at him, melting his heart. “I am, Mo.”

When the elevator door opened, Peter let Morgan walk on her own. She started skipping, holding his larger hand when they walked. Pepper knocked on the closed door, and it opened to reveal Rhodey, smiling down on the three of them.

“Now, Morgan-”

“Daddy!”

Morgan dashed into the room and climbed up the chair Rhodey was previously using, jumping into the bed on Tony’s healthy side. Her smile was wide, with a front teeth missing and shining like the sun.

Tony placed an arm around her shoulders and kissed her neck.

“Hello, your Majesty.” he said, tears brimming in his eyes.

Peter couldn't help but smile at the gentle scene before him, frozen until Pepper placed a guiding hand on his shoulder. They sat on the chairs Rhodey had placed beforehand.

“Mummy said you were a duckling now.” murmured Morgan, still snuggling against Tony.

Tony’s eyes widened. “Did she?”

“Yeah, but I can’t see your feathers.”

He shot them a confused look as Morgan sat criss crossed. “They also said you were hurt. Are you okay now?”

Peter’s throat tightened, and so did Pepper’s hand on his thigh, but Tony only nodded at his daughter. “Still a little sore all over, kiddo.”

“You can still have juice pops, right?"

“I think we should cut back on the sugar, Maguna.” he said, stroking her hair. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were high.”

“What’s that me-”

Peters hands flew to cover her ears as he frowned at the man. “Mr. Stark!”

Tony’s smirk grew when Morgan turned to lick Peter’s fingers and he snapped his hands away. The little girl was over the moon with questions and comments.

“Petey’s your son now, right Daddy?”

“He is, Morgan.” Tony had privately glance at Peter with a small amount of fear, surprising the teenager but causing a supportive smile to twitch in his lips.

“D’you know he’s Spider Man?”

“I did, kiddo. But we need to keep shush shush about it.”

Morgan giggled and pressed a finger against her mouth. “Shush shush.”

Meanwhile the adorable conversation continued, Pepper stood up and began talking to Rhodey in a hushed, more serious voice. Peter only looked at them briefly before returning his attention to the hospital bed.

“Daddy? Where’s your arm?”

Peter felt himself drowning as he raced for an explanation in case that Tony didn't know how to answer.

“It’s gone now, Mo-Mo.” Tony said, with a less childish voice than before. Morgan’s eyes widened and she shifted in her place to look at the bandaged shoulder where the arm once was.

“Where’d it go?”

“I dunno, kiddo. But because it won't come back,” Tony stole a glance towards Peter. “Peter’s gonna help me make a new one. Right, Underoos?”

Peter bobbed his head up and down when both Starks turned to stare at him. Something about Tony’s tone made him think that the man wasn't as excited as himself to create a prosthetic piece of technology, but before he could ask Morgan started showing her father the small stuffed hedgehog.

Rhodey left after half an hour, shaking Tony's hand and kissing Pepper-s cheek, exciting just as Happy entered.

“Nice to see you up and running, boss.” he said, showing the keys to Pepper. Peter expected that the man wanted to say more to Tony, but kept quiet as they heavily transferred the Stark to a wheelchair.

Very few people were out in the hallway, and Peter had a feeling that it had something to do with Dennis. He was too paranoid now that Tony was out of the room, not enjoying himself as much as Morgan. The little girl was thrilled to ride on Tony-s blanket-covered lap and waving a nurses.

_ Calm down, we're finally going home. _

His spidey-sense won't stop bothering him, but he supposed it was for the best. He had to be cautious of everything- Tony wasn't physically (and probably emotionally) able to care for his family, and so he would take on the task.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don-t really have a specific idea of what happened to the avengers yet, so if anyone has any ideas, feel free to comment down below. Also, question for you all, did I amputate the correct arm??????
> 
> Stay safe everyone.
> 
> x)


	7. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going very quickly in updating chapters and then took a rather long break before posting this one. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> Warnings: Panic attacks

As they drove through the city Tony flinched with every blinding light or car, expecting the vehicles to crash against them and explode into smoke. 

The city had changed. Many buildings that had once collapsed under thievery and destruction of the snap- or blip as everyone seemed to call it- were brand new. He caught glimpse of a few artistic tributes with his iron mask, even fewer with his actual face, but said nothing.

Morgan chirped happily through most of the trip, which he was thankful for. Nobody expected him to speak or do anything else.

Happy also refrained himself from any comment, though Tony could easily notice how the man wanted to speak up. The trip was uneventful apart from that. He felt a near joy at watching Morgan and Peter interacting as a family.

All that satisfaction both increased and became negative when he began to recognise the trees and driveway of their cabin. 

Peter helped him walk towards the house slowly, and the teenager even looked away when Tony’s face flushed in embarrassment.

The cabin had not changed. Every book, chair and piece of furniture was in place, neatly dusted and welcoming him. Morgan’s drawings littered the walls of the kitchen with a variety of shapes; flowers from the garden outside, crooked portraits of Peter in his red and blue suit, doodles of the Unicorns Valkyrie apparently brought on her visits, and even a large helicarrier that floated with a rainbow.

He was able to carefully climb up and down the stairs, so no adjustments were made to their bedroom. The only new thing as Peter’s room, and Morgan insisted on having a grand tour with explanations for each poster.

Tony hated it all. He wanted to rest, to come back home in one piece and stop feeling like a stranger in a different house. He suppressed the urge to tear his hair out and smiled for his daughter. Fortunately, Peter soon swayed her away for some Disney films and he settled in the porch with Pepper.

The glassy lake gave off the same mirror-like view from before. 

“... and I’ve managed to work from home for the next few weeks to help you back home. Peter and Morgan are going back to school tomorrow to give you more time as well and….”

Pepper’s lips moved gracefully as she went over the mental agenda. Tony only half-listened, his arm was still numb and with it half of his senses. His arm tingled in a phantom pain- the world around him seemed blurred and too real.

“Tony?”

“I’m listening.”

She seemed to compress a doubtful glare. “Also, the team wants to see you.”

“The team?”

“Steve, Natasha, Sam. Everyone’s overjoyed that you’re awake.”

Overjoyed was a strong word. The thought of those people- his teammates- powerful, all knowing beings looking down on his vulnerable state, scared him.

“They want to visit?” he asked, not meeting her eyes.

“I think we could start with the Bartons. Just a few days ago we went to visit them. Just a calm lunch, the kids going for a swim, casual conversation. We also need to book another appointment with a neurologist- Dr. Davis insisted. Even if we know it is possible to fit for a prosthetic of your own design she insisted we make an appointment electromyography test.”

“A what?”

“A test to measure your nerves-”

“I know what it is, Pepps.” he sighed. “Just… not very keen on another doctor prodding me all over.”

“We can ask Bruce if you want.” she offered.

“Bruce… what’s he been up to?”

“He went back to India for a while, but returned for the Continental Aid Convention and….”

Peppers soft voice got him lost into thought again. Every piece of information that his wife provided seemed as an overwhelming wave of anxiety. He gulped down, draining his tea and keeping the cup close to his lips.

His head was pounding against his skull uncomfortably. His throat was tight- choking onto his trachea painfully. When he glance up at Pepper in mid-speech there was no panic in her eyes.

_ Get it together- _

His stomach began curling into itself with nausea and in one instant he was dashing inside the house. Their bedroom door closed vaguely in his memory as he promptly fell to his knees and vomited.

A hand was crushing his skull. He couldn't move, he was petrified. Too much, too much light, too much pain, too much-

“Tony?”

Pepper was knocking on the door by the time he had pitifully curled against the porcelain bathtub. His breath were laborious and his voice felt like sand.

“May I come in?”

“I’m fine, Pepper. Don’t come in.”

The door was locked. Pepper was on the other side, restless.

“Please.”

“I’m fine. Just a minute.”

He sat there for hours. Obadia's blood-curdling eyes bore into his soul from the corner of the room. Pepper was kneeling next to the door and talking. He waited.

Pepper was crying. She shouldn't be- he was fine. Nothing was wrong. The kids were safe. She was alive. Everything was fine.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As a child, Jarvis would tap him awake and Anna would offer him a mug of hot cocoa, whenever his parents were out of town. Maria would sing him to sleep in Italian, with words he couldn't comprehend but appreciated nonetheless. 

During nearly all his adult life, Tony had awoken from nightmares with a scream or loud yelp, usually scrambling off the bed in a tangle of sweat and thin bed sheets. His heart would pump violently, his arc reactor would suffocate the living hell out of him. After muting the worried A.I. and stayed curled in a corner of his lab till morning.

When a group of fighting, overly-powered and terribly traumatised people started living in the same building as himself, his post-nightmare routine changed; instead of curling up, he would travel down to a common area, nearly always finding some sleep deprived hero, and quietly work the night away in the presence of another human being. 

After the snap, he just curled against Pepper and quietly wake, shaking in silence.

This was the case at the moment. He laid on the bed, feeling his heart pound against the metal and Pepper breathing steadily besides him.

Tony was paralysed for a good half hour before quietly standing up, briefly considering waking up his wife. Instead, he slipped down the stair and paced around their home before deciding to go outside. The night was chilled, tiny icicles forming on the porch from the incoming winter. He should have brought a coat, but going back inside didn't suit him.

_ No stars tonight. _

As he sat down slowly on the stairs of his home, balance still off from the loss of limb, he noticed how Morgan’s play tent was still propped up. The vegetables he had last seen were different, bigger, and a chair had been added to the pair besides the grill. 

For the first time in nearly a decade, he wondered what would have happened if he died.

Tony could picture his funeral perfectly. He had dreamed his death quite a few times since he woke up, but he didn't consider them nightmares. They were tranquil thoughts, luminous, noiseless. He supposed anyone else would take them as horrors.

He could picture them burying his ashes in the lake; Pepper in a simple black dress with her hair down, Peter with a tight suit that didn't fit him as well as any chemical pun t-shirt, both of them holding Morgan’s tiny hands. He wondered if the little girl would understand his death as well as he understood his own parents’ end.

_ Don’t think of that. You’re alive. _

He could not recall much of his time in the comma, but knew the hallucinations would come back in tiny fragments.

_ Go back inside, the coldness will make you sick. _

He tried to creep back in quietly, completely chilled. He regretted not bringing out a coat for the third time, and hoped the creaking of the door would not wake anyone.

“Tony?”

_ Damnit _

Pepper was very much awake, pointing a whisk at him, in a domestic scene that he would never have pictured. She was leaning on the kitchen isle, hair in a half bun, pajamas and a kiss-the-cook apron he had bought for an anniversary.

“Hi.”

“Nightmare?” she asked.

“Oh, no, just the vital idea of how long my stump of an arm can survive in winter conditions. My little science experiment- also for the sake of the kids. Someone has to check how cold it is before they go into shenanigans around the lake.”

His noticeably insincere smile gave him away. The redhead shook her head, chuckling to herself before fetching a blanket from the living room and placing it around his shoulder.

“Thanks.” he kissed her cheek before she went back to her original post. “I…. I’m sorry about earlier today. I wasn't thinking correctly.”

He prepared himself to be scolded but she just smiled sadly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really, no. Neither about the nightmare- dream.” He sighed and fidgeted with his hand before the blanket slipped over his nonexistent arm. “Besides, you cooking at four a.m.? That a better topic- tell me, does this affect your daily productivity?”

Pepper shrugged, looking down on the bowl. “I wasn't very sleepy, and figured I could wait for you to come in while making these.”

He felt warm at the thought of her worry, yet giving him space to come out of his shell. The nightmare was still fresh in his memory. Tony shook his head, finally noticing the amount of ingredients around. Eggs, organic almond flour, bits of chocolates.

He sneaked a piece of the sweet into his mouth. “I didn't know you liked to make macaroons.”

“I took up baking during this year. But mine are pretty dull compared to Happy’s.”

“Happy  _ cooks _ ?”

“You’d be surprised at the amount of things he can do.” Pepper said, sifting some cocoa powder with the almond flour.

“Huh. Why are you sifting it again?”

“I like to make sure the batter is smooth, darling.”

Tony cocked his head to the side, watching his wife gently prepare the sweets delicately. After sifting the dry ingredients twice more, she began folding the egg whites with care.

“Morgan seems to adore school. How’d you find that kindergarten?” he asked, grabbing a pinch of the batter when she looked up.

“Laura’s kids used to go there too. And the bus comes to pick her up every morning in a station fifteen minutes from here, so it was easier for Peter to go with her.”

“He also takes the bus?”

“Sometimes.” she said. “Other times he just uses the suit.”

As she started piping the cookie batter into small circles on a tray, his mind began racing again, feeling that any moment, Obadiah's pale, bleeding face would lurk above Pepper’s shoulder.

“Tony?”

“Yes?”

“I really think you should begin going to therapy.”

_ Excuse me? _

He glared at Pepper, immediately refusing the idea. 

At age of seven, he had just acquired his first scar: a thin, ugly scab on the side of his hand after dealing with a razor-sharp engine, the first he ever built. His eyes had shone with pride even with the bleeding cut, but instead of praise from his father, he got a curt nod, three reporters snapping pictures, and a one way ticket to boarding school. In the institute, he was introduced to a soft-eyed woman to whom he talked to for an hour and a half. He spilled his heart out in a particular anecdote of two boys slapping him for being smarter.

He had left happy of having a secret keeper, but his trust broke when Maria, a day after, asked him about the boys. A fact had popped up in Tony’s young man; Therapists were not to be trusted.

“Just think about it, Tones. After all you’ve been through… it helped me a lot when you first fell into a comma. Peter also went to a few sessions to sort out his grief over…”

Tony had not met a therapist until decades later, after the whole Vanko affair. Rhodey had convinced him to at least seek professional help. He went inside, thirty minutes late, answered the doctor’s questions and never came back.

“Pepper…”

“I mean it.” she closed the oven’s door and sat back down facing him. “You just had a panic attack today. Don’t deny it. I also did a lot of research. The five stages of grief, dealing with heavy trauma, post traumatic disorder-”

“Bullshit, Pepps-”

“Listen!” her fierce glare shut him up. “Tony Stark, just listen to me. You’re not the first or the last one to have a panic attack. I know you’ve had them before. And therapy may be terrifying, but even Steve Rogers has once sat down in a colourful chair to tell a professional about himself. There’s no judgment here.”

He hesitated. “Rogers is a golden boy. I’m not- besides, I have gone through plenty without a woman talking about my chakras and moral alignment-”

“I’m being serious, it's a professional, medical-”

“I know that, honey-bear, but I’m… “ he pause when he was about to say fine, suddenly not so sure of himself.

Pepper seemed to notice his abrupt silence and went to his side, hugging his frame without reproach.

“You’re not okay. Your arm was amputated, you missed one whole year of your daughter and son’s life. You woke up to a beaten, weary yet now complete world without a clue of what's going on. Not to mention everything else in your life.”

Tony nodded, letting Pepper rock him gently.

“Go to therapy. Just four sessions. If not for yourself, then do it for me, for Peter and Mo.”

He sighed, knowing there was no way of winning back the argument. “Fine. Just four sessions.”

“Just four sessions.”

Pepper planted a kiss on his hair and begun chopping more chocolate to make a ganache. His eyes prickled tiredly, but there was no way he was going back to bed. Instead, he simply relaxed to the sight of Pepper cooking.

She was very beautiful, he noticed. Her slender hips, vaguely visible with his AC/DC t-shirt behind the apron and a pair of loose checkered pjama pants. He observed her patiently for the first time in months; the small, delicate wrinkles underneath her blue eyes, soft jawline and thin rosy lips. Her hair now had stray dashes of grey that didn't make her any less dazzling.

He could see the small scar on her ear from the Mandarin’s attack, notice how her skin was pale with the dim lighting, how her strong, able hands cooked.

“Pepps?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Pepper set down the macaron with an affectionate smile. “Why the sudden rush of emotion?”

He blushed. “”No reason, just… I don’t think I said that as much before. Also, in case anything happens-”

“What could happen?” she questioned, smile fading. 

“Pepps, we never know, with my kind of lifestyle and… “ he stopped talking, walking over to the couch and staring into the fireplace. She followed, leaving the sweets untouched.

“Tony? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, I promise.” he murmured, meeting her worried expression. “I just realised I never really promised you anything like that before and, well…”

“Is the famous Tony Stark stuttering?”

“What? No! Just… think of everything we’ve done till today.” Tony said, taking her hand with his remaining arm. “You used to be a second-rate jumped-up amazon secretary with the Andie Walsh hairdo and I…

“-Used to be an arrogant, narcissistic asshole with no reason to live except alcohol?” she prompted, leaning closer and resting on his chest, careful of his burns.

“No need to be so harsh.”

“It’s true.”

He half smiled. “Yeah. So what am I now, though? An arrogant, half-fried amputee that manages his problems with freezing in the winter night? Without mentioning my still handsomeness and genius intellect, of course.”

“Perhaps. All that but with a better reason to live.”

He shrugged, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Which is?”

“You’re loving family, Mr. Oblivious.”

“Meanie. Remember I’m still in the three thousand points for best parent.”

“How about best wife?” Pepper prompted, flipping around to rest her head on his chest while looking at him.

“You won that one years ago, Pepps.”

“Mm-hm.”

Tony nodded, resting his chin on her head. “I mean it. You win, Mrs. Stark. Now take a nap before that pink bug upstairs jumps into your arms.”

“You can carry her too, you know?”

“Peter already does that.” he noted.

“It's not the same. Don't you have more daddy points?”

“Eww, Pepps, don’t call them that.”

She smiled, looking up and kissing him, gently caressing the burned side of his face.

“Don’t worry about the future, Tony. You already saved it.”

“High cost.” he mumbled.

“Worthy cost.” she changed, curling up tightly. She was right, he decided, she was right as she always is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tony, and this is only the beginning. I geniuenly liked the ending for this chapter, but gentle reminder that I'm trying to go through the five stages of grief. I tried my best to show denial.
> 
> Also, all the medical references would probably be wrong if I went into detail, so they're going to be very vague. On another note, I'm meaning to change the name of this fic (or not) Any ideas?
> 
> Stay safe everyone 
> 
> x)


	8. The Therapist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been taking longer to update for personal reasons, but hope you guys enjoy this chapter.
> 
> x)

Peter whipped the avocado from his lip with the edge of his suit. The remains of his sandwich were mostly the melted cheese and caramelised onion sauce that had dripped onto his lap with the first bite. He sighed, staring at the other three wrapped sandwiches on his pack- Morgan’s grilled cheese, Pepper’s favourite chili chicken and the most cheeseburger like sandwich Delmar could offer. For Tony.

He would pick Morgan from her music class in fifteen minutes. Ned and MJ had stayed over the day before, to build a Lord of the Rings set with the little Stark girl. His Spanish quiz had gone better than expected. Mr. Stark was alive and awake.

_Then why does it feel so wrong?_

Peter understood that his life was never going to be considered easy going by earthly standards, but at the moment he should, technically, be happy. He had come to terms with the (many) deaths of his loved ones and gained a family of his own, had a vaguely defined purpose in life and was enjoying a chicken avocado panini on top of a building in Queens.

But his spidey sense was still ringing every time he went back home, whenever he dropped Morgan off with a teacher, and, at most, whenever he was alone with Tony in a room.

The man visibly forced himself to act cheerful in front of them, but Peter could notice how lost he looked. Tony was never left alone, and on the last few nights, when he studied quietly in the living room or messed around with Dum-E, Tony’s eyes were either stuck in some media outlet or observing him.

The man’s worry rivalled his own. 

(So far Tony was unaware of what happened with Mysterio, but every time something related to the catastrophe rose to a conversation Peter’s blood went cold.)

Peter didn't feel uncomfortable with Tony overall, but he wished it would go back to how it was before.

He wished they were back at the up-state facility or the tower, drinking coffee, blasting music, working on endless exploding prototypes. He wanted to hear Tony laugh, going around with his sarcasm and sass. Feel the “I told you so” and tell him about his school day and together, plan ways on creating a life-sized Tie Fighter.

Peter sighed again, wrapping up the wax paper and throwing it to his bag before putting his mask back on.

He had trained himself for nearly a year for this occasion. For Tony to wake up a heartbroken man. He knew that however changed the genius would be, that sassy retort and smile would one day come back. They had to.

“Hey, Karen.”

“Good afternoon Peter. How was your Spanish quiz?”

“Pretty fine, thanks.” he replied. “Lets go get MoMo.”

“Mapping quickest route.”

Swinging his way to Morgan’s class alleviated his anxiety. His reflection shined flawlessly through the glass of the buildings, and the day was sunny enough to see perfectly. Landing on an alley, he threw on a hoodie and pants before shoving on his backpack and walking to the store with a blue door.

Morgan was sitting on a wooden bench outside, chattering to a young teacher before she saw him.

“Petey!” 

Morgan always squealed, and, as the girl attached herself to his leg, he bid the woman goodbye.

He swung Morgan around until she was sitting comfortably on his shoulders, and began walking to the nearest station.

“How was class?” He asked.

“We learned about Mo-tsart.” 

“Mozart? Yes, but what about other music, Mo-”

“Don't worry, Spidey.” Morgan giggled, pulling gently on his hair. “Daddy taught me music.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“AC/DC.”

Peter reckoned Pepper would never approve of that choice, but Morgan could barely understand the lyrics. When they reached a small park, Morgan pulled on his backpack and climbed off. 

“What is it?” He asked, crouching to her level.

Her brown eyes shined. “Can we go home with webs?”

“Morgan! You know how Pepper-”

“Pretty please? Please, please, please?”

Puppy eyes widened and Peter’s heart clenched. She was going to be the death of him.

“Fine. But don’t tell Mommy.”

All the way, every building and street, Morgan squealed with delight and he internally screamed in terror. He would never drop her- his webs around her back and attached to his chest never failed, but he felt extremely irresponsible. 

They landed softly a few minutes away from the cabin, civilisation replaced by greenery. As he took off his suit Morgan cleverly fixed her hair from the ruffling wind. She took his hand as they walked towards the cabin.

“Now, Mo, remember…”

She placed a small finger over her lips. “Our secret.”

Peter beamed down and let her climb to a piggyback ride, looking back at the view of the lake. Pepper had send him a few messages of how they would come home late after another meeting with Dr. Davis, which meant homework would be made through a marathon of Disney and poptarts.

Just Morgan, Friday and himself for the afternoon.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The waiting area was empty except for a young receptionist and them both. Pepper had insisted on waiting calmly for him while typing in her computer. The clicking on the machine was the only noise in the room, apart from the not so clandestine football game on the receptionist's computer. 

And his foot, repeatedly beating against the carpet.

Tony swallowed a sound of desperation and tried to focus on the gossip magazine on his lap. Two weeks at home had given him enough strength to make his way around on his own and save him the drowning shame of a wheelchair, but that did not take away the awkwardness of assistance.

The magazine felt heavy against his hand, out of balance. The lights were too bright, the background jazz too dull and yet too loud for his senses. His breath hitched for a moment, but he could breathe just fine even if his heart beat faster.

“Tony?”

Peppers hand was on top of his and she was giving him her oh-so-professionally-worried look.

“I’m okay. Just… thinking.”

She nodded and went back to her world of digital files, but kept her hand on his. She had been working much lately, making him feel slightly useless. The clock ticked, the soccer game ended and the background music from Galaga started playing from the desk.

After another eternity his name was called and Pepper stood up, but he softly pulled on her sleeve.

“Are you sure?” She inquired, setting down the laptop.

“I’ll be fine, Pepps. What can they do- stick cables to my skull? Take my brain and sell it?” He smirked. “I’ve had worse.”

Whether he was a terrible liar or Pepper simply knew him too well, he understood her unappreciative look. However, she just nodded, kissed his cheek and settled back down on the chair.

The receptionists seemed to ignore him completely as she popped her gum and led him through an open door.

The office was styled to feel warm, ironic for a place where people expressed too much darkness. It was not unlike the room in his middle school, years ago, but missed the intense perfume and had more windows.

A shorter, professional looking woman with black hair shook his hand when he entered.

“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Stark. ”

He only nodded and felt a pang of oddity. Unlike some other standard SHIELD psychologist he had met, there was nothing fake about her.

“My name is-”

“Dr. Diane Derkins, Princeton graduate, and, If I’m not mistaken, one of the few fortunates to have her whole family intact after the blip? Oh, and a dog lover. You have too many pictures in your phone.”

Tony was surprised at the acidness of his voice, but the doctor kept smiling and sat down.

“We can skip the small talk introductions, then.” She commented, and outstretched a hand to motion a green toned couch. “Why don't you seat down?”

“You can't make me.” He felt incredibly childish.

“I cannot make you do anything, Mr. Stark. But because of your wife, you are not allowed to leave this room for the next…” she checked her watch. “Fifty seven minutes, and I think standing the whole time would not be comfortable.”

He stared at her intently before slowly sitting back down. She clapped her hands and handed him a cup of coffee before taking a notepad. 

“So, Derkins. Like Susie Derkins? You are a doctor, but did you know that your receptionist watches soccer games and plays Galaga? Thought you wouldn't notice. What do you know about me? Like I know you may be a secret agent, but...”

“But?” she asked where he trailed off. “I do know a fill about yourself, Mr. Stark-”

“Don’t call me that.” he snapped.

Again, Diane Derkins didn't flinch or looked harmed by his selfish, childish behaviours. “Its… that’s my father.”

“Tony, then.” she stated. “Why are you here?”

“Well, my dear old mother, may she rest in peace, decided that this oxidizing reality called life needed just one more tiny genius-”

“In therapy, Tony. Why are you in this office, today?” she had already begun writing.

“Here? My wife wants me, made me promise something I am partially planning to accomplish.”

“And why is that?”

When he remained quiet, Dr. Derkins simply kept writing. He rubbed his temples and drained the cup.

“Is it alright if I ask you a few questions? I usually begin my first session like this.”

“You would do it anyways, Susie.” he muttered. “Besides, you may not like my answers.”

She shook her head. “Tony, I have worked in SHIELD before-”

“That explains a lot.”

“- and have heard plenty from other heroes. P.T.S.D., form of torture and crimes against humanity are part of my daily work. It is very probable that what you tell me will not shock me.”

Pepper seemed to have done a great deal of research to find this woman.

“I always enjoyed a challenge.”

She smiled at him again and began reading from her notes. Tony tried his best to find quippy, ridiculous replies for each while keeping a straight and expressionless posture.

“How do you feel about the loss of your arm?”

“Feel? Lady, it’s missing”

“How do you feel about your family?”

“Bunch of geniuses.”

“Why do you wear sunglasses inside?”

“Signature look, Susie. Fuck the authorities and all. Teens this days.”

“Why did you create Iron Man?”

“I was bored. Bored, bored, bored.”

“So boredom makes you self destructive?”

“I have exotic hobbies.”

“Is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

“Yes, did you choose that last name, or change it yourself? Where’s your Hobbes?”

“What are you hoping of getting from this session?”

“Mainly coffee, but if you have some toffee sweets, I’m all for it.”

“Have you ever thought of comiting suicide?”

Tony paused, eyeing her suspiciously and tightening his tight around the cup. “No comments”

Derkins closed her pad and set it aside, pouring herself more coffee. She looked tired of him already. 

“No more questions? Come on, lady. I was getting up to the good replies.” he joked.

“Tony, I don't need good replies, I need truthful ones.”

He glared at her, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. The room seemed to close up on him and blur his view, but he kept still. The emptiness on his side weighed uncomfortably.

“What did Fury tell you about me?” he asked, sitting up.

“Curious? As you already know, Shield saw you as a compulsive, self-”

“Self-destructive, volatile, narcissist asshole, I know.” He retorted impatiently. “But what did Fury tell you? Who am I to you? Some mentally ill, bodily broken man?”

She cocked her head to the side. “I think you already know the answer, Tony.”

“Me?” Tony scoffed. “You’re supposed to give me the answers, Doc.”

“No, Tony. I'm here to guide you through them. But only you can tell me what's going on. And the process begins when you stop denying the facts and being truthful about them.”

Tony shot her a vicious glare and unintentionally slammed the cup against the floor. His hand was shaking and the porcelain shattered. “I’ll pay for that.” he whispered.

She nodded. “Now that we are clear, let's start over. Why are you here, Tony?”

“I… “He sucked in a breath and stuck his eyes to the ground. “I shouldn't be alive. I was meant to die in that battle, and in all the ones before. But I'm here. And I….”

He looked up and clenched his fist. 

“And I need help.”

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Pepper felt her husband's hand tug her back before she entered their home. She looked back at the pair of brown, tired eyes. Tony had been nearly silent the whole way back home, never teasing Happy or her. She wondered what they had talked about, but kept a strong policy on Tony’s privacy.

“Pepper?”

Tony’s voice was soft, and she wrapped her hands around his neck. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m not okay.” he whispered, staring into her eyes with confusion.

“I know, Tony. I know.”

She kissed his chapped lips sweetly and softly whipped the wet trails on his cheeks. He reacted moments after she buried her face in his neck.

“But you will be.”

They stood like that for a while, before she decided the cold was too much and led him to the kitchen. He retreated after one final kiss to the living room, crashing with some joke about Mulan and ruffling Peter’s hair.

Pepper smirked to herself, happy to have found an adequate therapist. Even if Tony was far from better.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was funny to come up with Tony's replies for basic questions. Anyone here dislike therapy? Lemme know in the comments- I need more human interaction.
> 
> Also, for those who didnt understand, Tony calls the Dr. Derkins "Susie" because Susie Derkins is a character in the comic strips Calvin and Hobbes. Its a pretty funny comic, I fully recomend it.
> 
> Stay safe everyone!


End file.
